Page 117 of By Invitation Only
Booker, of course, was still a Diamond member, but I opted for Pearl. Since I was with him, I could do it all and didn’t need to purchase anything more.
“Is tonight special?” I asked, walking into the bedroom to find my heels.
“The only difference is a champagne toast at midnight,” Booker replied, fixing his bow tie in the floor length mirror.
“Oh.”
“But not with champagne flutes.”
“What?” I turned to look at him through the reflection.
“Well,” he grinned, “they have flutes, but people tend to use each other’s bodies to drink it.”
“Really?”
“It tastes better that way.” He winked.
“You’re so full of shit.” I laughed.
“Try it tonight. I bet you’ll taste the difference.”
“Anything off your abs would be delicious,” I countered.
“That can be arranged for every meal.”
I threw my head back and laughed. “You’re too much.”
“But you love me.”
I walked up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist. “I do.”
“Good. Randy texted they were almost here, and all the members tend to come on New Year’s Eve, so I don’t want to wait in the queue all night.”
As we walked into the mansion, first thing was first; we had to get a drink. Even though I was being carefree, I still needed a little liquid courage. Booker ordered me a vodka cranberry with thegoodstuff and a vodka and water for himself. After we had our drinks, we walked through the house, people watching. I had no idea where our friends ran off to. Nor did I care. Lorelei told me about her and Randy doing it against the wall in a part of the mansion, and that was enough of a visual.
As we strolled, my gaze landed on none other than Jason Black. I hadn’t seen him for a long time. After the last incident, I had no desire to ever speak to him again. It was sad to realize that your celebrity crush was a date-rape-drug-slipping-asshole, and it still baffled me to think that was how he got laid. If he had his kink of wanting to double penetrate a woman, then there was a better way of going about it. A hooker might be cheaper than Sensation.
Booker and I walked toward the window by the pool. “I bet the pool is nice in the summer,” I stated, looking at the illuminated water.
“It’s nice year round.”
“Really? Isn’t it cold?”
“It’s heated,” he confirmed, taking a sip of his drink.
“Aren’t you cold when you get out?”
“Only briefly. They have warm towels, and there are heat lamps by the loungers.”
“Fancy.”
“Want to go out there?”
“Sure.”
As soon as we stepped through the French door, a chill washed over me. It may be So Cal and not somewhere that snows for the entire winter, but it was still cold to me, especially in a dress.
“Want to get in?” Booker asked.
